To Be Lied To
by qongo
Summary: Casey is ready to finally confront things head on. Dawson isn't. What starts out as a simple white lie to her fiance ends up spiraling into a world of hurt and betrayal that will make it harder than ever to bridge the gap between them. Set sometime during the mid season 3 Dawsey drama.
1. Chapter 1

_Casey_

He hung up the phone and sat back with a sigh. After what seemed like years, more accurately weeks, of long days and bickering about their careers, Dawson and Casey were officially set for a date. He had been off today, and his lovely fiancé's shift was set to end just in time for her to change and make their dinner reservation. He was looking forward to it more than words could say. Lately it seemed like all they did was avoid tension between them and catch up on sleep during the rare hours they could and probably _should _have been talking through things.

Nonetheless, tonight was going to work. He could feel it. Not once during the hard times had he ever loved her any less than he had, consciously or not, every moment since he laid eyes on her. That wasn't the kind of stuff you were able to express during the tough times though; if you could, they wouldn't be tough. It hadn't been easy on either one of them, but a mutual evening off seemed like a Godsend in terms of finally getting back to the relationship they sought so much comfort in. He had just gotten off the phone with the restaurant, confirming their 6:30 reservation. It was a great little pier spot he had passed a few times before and always intended to take her. In fact, he had even considered proposing there, but as history will note, things got a little interesting on that front.

It had been a long time since he felt like he was just a man, sitting across from the woman he loved, who loved him right back. With no disturbing fires, friends' issues or career opportunities to clash over. Just two people in love. He was beyond looking forward to it. Besides, if all went well, there were a few other notable things there had been considerably less than enough time for lately that he was hoping they could back to tonight. Yes, tonight was going to be a good night. They deserved it.

_Dawson_

She sighed hard as she began throwing things in her duffel. She wasn't sure this was a good idea. They had barely spoken in weeks and now their first official "date" again was going to be in a public place, especially one as stuffy as some upscale restaurant? Not only was that atmosphere entirely not something she was in the mood for, it all but guaranteed they wouldn't actually discuss anything of consequence. All she wanted to do was sit at home with her feet up, cold beer in hand, and something mindless on the television. If Casey wanted to be there too, sharing the tense silence as they so often did these days, so be it. If not, he was more than welcome to go get wasted at Molly's, something else they were both no strangers to.

It wasn't that she didn't want to work things out, she did, she absolutely did. Just...not tonight. And certainly not on some forced, overly formal date. That wasn't _them, _it never had been. And she saw no reason to turn to pretense now. She passed Otis on her way to her car, pausing suddenly. _No, _she thought, _you can't. It's not fair. _But then again was it fair to her to have to go through the motions of this after a long day at work? I t certainly didn't seem so. A plan was already taking shape in her mind. It was the treasonous kind-so not right that you knew it as you formulated it, but so tempting you already knew you were going to follow through with it.

"Otis!" She called. He turned back, headed in her direction.

"Yeah, what's up, Dawson?" "I was wondering if I could pick up a shift tonight at Molly's. We could really use the extra cash." Not that the income wouldn't be nice, but she had reasons far beyond money."

"Sorry, I wish I could help but Hermann wanted to make sure he got tonight since he and Cindy are going to be out of town the next three days and he already promised a shift tonight to some kid he met on a call. He's a registered bartender, and he told Hermann this really fascinating story-"

She interrupted him, "Otis, kinda in a hurry," she whispered, gesturing over her shoulder to her waiting car.

"Right, right, of course. Sorry to blabber. And about the whole schedule thing. I'm sure there's stuff open tomorrow and the day after, though."

"Yeah, probably. Don't worry about it, thanks Otis." She bluffed, knowing shifts in the coming days were going to be of no use to her.

She sighed again as she settled into her car, letting her head thunk back against the headrest. _Now what? _She couldn't tell Matt the truth, it was exactly the kind of thing he would take the wrong way and set them back even further. Her eyes opened suddenly as she had a realization. Matt didn't know this random story about the kid Hermann met. He would easily still believe she had been forced to fill in by an opening somewhere. She didn't exactly fancy lying to him, but it was what she needed at the moment. Besides, it's not like she was planning anything truly secretive or some big betrayal; she just needed to _not do this tonight, _and Hell, maybe she'd even be ready to talk by the time she got home. But for the moment, this plan was going into action.

She quickly dialed the number she had known by heart for quite some time now. He picked up after the second ring, not even letting her get a word out.

"Hey, baby! Listen, I just booked the reservation for 6:30, is that enough time for you to get home and change? If not, I can push it back." A pang of guilt shot through her as she realized how excited he had gotten himself over this night. She had a moment to change her mind, but it wasn't long enough to combat the exhaustion in her body and desire to avoid their problems one more night, at least.

"Listen, babe, I'm really sorry but I'm going to have to cancel for tonight. Hermann is out of town," she winced to herself, regretting having told lie #1 so early, "and there's really no option but for me to fill in. It shouldn't be a long shift, Otis and I were planning on shutting up early, but unfortunately it runs right through dinnertime."

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Oh," came the response eventually, infinitely more subdued than his initial greeting, with palpable disappointment and confusion in his voice. Her heart hurt at the sound, but it still wasn't enough to make her back out. Not quite. "Are you sure there's no one else that could cover? It's just we haven't spent any real time together in so long and-"

"I'm sure, Matt," she cut him off, slightly harsher than she intended. More silence. She was just grateful she couldn't see the look in his eyes. That might have been what it took to change her mind.

"Ok, if you have to. I'll see you...sometime, I guess." She shut her eyes tightly, not sure why this was so much tougher than she envisioned it being.

"Yeah, I'll see you later tonight." They ended the conversation softly, with a very understated goodbye and "love you"s that it broke her heart to realize sounded verging on obligatory at this point.

Nonetheless, she felt a certain sense of relief as she took off towards town, hoping to find a quiet place to just pass a little time. This was going to be exactly what she needed.

_Casey_

He set his phone down gently on the table, yanking the tie from around his neck as he did so. His weight collapsed to the trunk at the foot of the bed of its own volition. He shouldn't have been surprised, honestly, this was just how his life was now, apparently. Any positive though he had previously had about the night now just reared back against his mind in negative, cynical ways that seemed to make nothing make sense. _Didn't she want to work it out? Why couldn't they seem to get a moment between them anymore? Since when are dates not priorities? _

Some of these questions he knew were unfair; clearly she wasn't choosing to have to work an extra shift. In fact, she was probably as disappointed as him to not get the time to themselves. He couldn't help but note it hadn't quite sounded like it, but he tried to avoid being suspicious. That didn't help anything. He slowly changed back into a CFD pullover and lounge pants, prepared for another evening alone. If he didn't feel like he was 75% of the way to cirrhosis at this point, he'd probably just go get wasted, but for as easily as that particular coping method came, it was a real problem he was very careful to avoid getting too deeply in the clutches of.

He just _missed her. _This wasn't some marriage of convenience or formal living arrangement, he loved her, dammit. The days when that was the only thing between them, love, seemed so foreign as he looked around their apartment at things that implied anything more than acquaintances had once lived there. Because that's what they felt like: casual acquaintances. He shook his head roughly, rubbing his eyes, and trying to get all the negativity out.

In the midst of his reverie he suddenly became a little angry. There was no reason he couldn't be with her while she worked the bar. Who was he to judge her for not spending time with him when he was the one choosing to sit at home away from her? He jumped up again, yanking his jeans and belt back on in the bedroom before grabbing his keys off the hook and heading for his truck. He smiled softly as he drove, looking forward to some casual time with his girl, even if she had to be a little preoccupied meanwhile. After all, there was still the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dawson_

"So there we were with thirty people in our house, no electricity, and a neighborhood burglar movie. I had never felt more like some low-grade crime drama star in my life." The group all laughed heartily, most throwing back another drink at the comical picture he had painted. "He" being some guy name Charlie, a harmless regular at the bar she had ended up at.

She'd started outwith a simple walk in the park, literally, where she eventually met a girl named Elizabeth, who struck her as particularly warm and compassionate, despite the significance of the name, given the recent death of her friend. They had exchanged surface pleasantries of what brought them there and she decided she liked her.

So it wasn't just her and this Charlie fellow, she wasn't going to betray Matt like that. After all, apparently spending the night with sketchy bar patrons was his thing now. Elizabeth was the one who suggested they stop for a bit at this local place she knew and unwind. Several others joined them-just a random assortment of people she had decided seemed trustworthy and like a good time, and more had slowly accumulated and soon they had a pretty good thing going

It was nice to just talk to _people _for once, not lifelong friends and lovers who knew your every movement and emotion. It was getting late though, nearing 10:30 and the last thing she needed was Matt sending out a search party only to find her drinking happily across town. She said pleasant goodbyes to her new friends, exchanged numbers with Elizabeth in hopes of developing an honest friendship: something she needed desperately.

She was a little buzzed, but she was none too proud to admit she'd driven a lot worse. She aimed her car back out on the main drag out of the city towards their apartment. As she drove she recollected on where Matt thought she had been, just in case she were to get herself tripped up by some avenue the conversation took once she got home. All she truly wanted now was sleep, certainly no big hashing out at this hour. She yawned as she drove, wishing she had more nights like tonight, just for herself.

_Casey (2 Hours Earlier)_

It wasn't a long drive to Molly's; he had made it many times since the opening and made it tonight in about 15 minutes, thanks to low traffic. He pulled his truck into a space across the street, hoping to surprise her. As he entered, he was pleased to see it looking so bustling. Molly's hadn't always thrived like it did now, and he knew they all enjoyed their shifts much more when there was real work to be done. He quickly spotted Otis across the room and headed in his direction. After serving a customer a Gin and Tonic, he moved to met him across the bar.

"Hey, Otis, I was hoping to speak to Gabby. Is she busy?"

A look of confusion passed the younger man's features. "I can't really say if she's busy or not, Lieutenant- she's not here."

At first he though there was a misunderstanding and sought to clarify. "No, she's on shift tonight, Otis, I just talked to her about it. She said she was filling in since Hermann is out." He racked his brain, trying to find a way he had misinterpreted their conversation, but knew fairly for certain he hadn't.

"No, boss, I'm sorry. Hermann isn't going out for a couple days. We did talk about him, but nobody is covering his shifts yet. In fact, the big guy himself is right over there," he said, gesturing across the bar to him in his trademark, flannel serving a round of beers. Casey could feel a cold, heavy dread settling into his stomach at the realization of what was going on. He fought hard to maintain a straight face, unwilling to broadcast to his colleagues that his fiancé was blatantly lying to him. He brushed it off as a misunderstanding, thanked Otis for his help, and headed back to his truck. Once he was in it he allowed his head to drop forward against the steering wheel and his eyes to shut tightly.

He knew they were having trouble, but he didn't really think they were at this point: lying outright to each other to avoid spending time together. That was a level he didn't think he would ever reach for her, and had never even imagined she was already at. The realizations dawning on him made it difficult to breath, let alone think. It was such an overwhelming hurt and disbelief that he was starting to wonder if he was ever going to make it out of this parking place. Yet just as it had before, anger replaced his hurt and drove him to action.

If she was going to sneak out behind his back, he was going to confront her about it. Not later, not tomorrow, _now. _He gunned his truck back into drive and peeled out off the curb far faster than he should have. Wherever he was going, he was going damn fast at this point, though it did dawn on him quickly he didn't _know _where he was going. He made his most educated guess: town. There weren't a lot of options, and he felt confident she wasn't looking for any extra time at their everyday stomping grounds. They didn't go to town a lot but it was always her favorite place for a night out, and he knew just the area. There was a beautiful park they had spent a fair amount of time in together. Tears sprang quickly to his eyes as he remembered the time spent there-time spent in love, and comfortable together. Not tense and deceitful just for the sake of being away from each other. The principle of this was what was really killing him. That being away from him for a night was worth any number of tales she had to spin along the way. They hadn't always been this way and it was killing him to not know what he had done to get them there.

He quickly cranked the radio and rolled a window down as he gruffly blinked away the offensive tears. No, he would not cry tonight. He would find his girl, and he was going to have one definite conversation with her. They had done enough evading: it was time to talk.


	3. Chapter 3

_Casey_

He knew her too well for his own good. He had imagined himself on some wild goose chase, lasting long into the night, culminating in a dramatic confrontation, perhaps even a heroic rescue, depending on what kind of people she had gotten herself mixed up with.

Unfortunately, fate would not be so kind. As previously mentioned, _he knew her. _And knowing someone that well makes it incredibly easy to find them. For one because you know their tendencies and preferences so well, and secondly on some deep, instinctual level. From the moment he peeled out of Molly's to the time he laid eyes on his girl again was twenty minutes, tops. He'd taken the main drag for awhile, eventually turning off at the park he recognized from numerous visits from her. Unless she was sneaking away to cheat on him, which even he had to admit seemed unlikely, she was probably looking for some sort of solace or quiet.

It threw him a bit to not find anyone at their typical spot by the pond in the middle of the park. At first he though he had misread the whole thing, but soon realized he was right all along, he was just missing a piece of the puzzle. She _had_ been here, he was certain of it. But if all she wanted was peace and quiet, she could have just canceled the date and stayed home ignoring him, like she did every night. No, this was different. She wanted _away from him. _With renewed pain at how far they had come and fresh tears threatening, he dragged himself back to his truck and began again. He stayed off the highway this time, continuing on into this little "city" nearby.

It wasn't a city in major metropolis way, but it was fairly bustling, especially at night, and just the place someone could go to blow off some steam when their own bar was just a little too familiar. It was only moments into his patrol of the town that his suspicions were confirmed. And in a more painful way than even he had anticipated.

There she was, the woman who gave him more happiness and security and purpose than anyone ever had. She was alive, and she wasn't in distress, and she was _so damn happy. _It was like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over his head and punched him in the gut at the same time. He pulled over, just taking a moment to let the sight before him fully sink in. She was at a stool in some bar, surrounded by probably 5 or 6 people he had never even seen before. But by God did they look happy. The last time he had seen her look that carefree...it eluded him. He couldn't even remember. No time recently with him, that was for damn sure.

He would have almost rather found her cheating on him. At least that would have just been about the sex, and even he had to admit his patience was waning as far as that drought went. But this, this was worse. She didn't want sex, she just wanted away from him. It was in that moment that he realized how much of a burden he and their relationship had become to her. He had never felt more like an idiot: here he was, planning some romantic dinner and then a second bout of foolishness in the same night. He had actually thought maybe she just needed a break from people.

But no, naive Matt Casey gets duped again. She did need a break-from him. And that's exactly what she was going to get. Through the world of hurt that was threatening to entirely overtake him, he still loved her more than anything in the world, and the last thing he was going to do was interrupt what was clearly one of the best nights in her recent memory. And if he was being honest with himself, if he walked in that bar, the moment she laid eyes on him would break him, because she would not be able to hide her disappointment at his intrusion into her life. And that was something he would not ever be able to forget. So for what must have been a record-breaking fourth time in one night, he rolled his engine back to life in defeat and made his way home. He supposed there would be some sort of confrontation tonight after all, but not nearly the kind he had envisioned. He was going to let this play out for itself.

It was nearing 9:30 by the time he made it home, and threw his coat into the corner. If the drive had served any purpose, it was to depress him even more. If she even came home that night, yeah, he supposed they would talk. But however long that was going to take was not time he wanted to spend sober. Under a minute elapsed between when he walked in the door and when he was slouched on the couch with a bottle of vodka. It was all the liquor they had, so he couldn't go through it too fast. They had a few beers, which he was certain he'd be throwing back at some point during the night too, but he had to make sure he had the heavy hitter in his system first. He was an old pro at this.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello everyone! I hope everybody like this one, it's the highly-anticipated confrontation chapter. I went through several drafts of it really trying to get it right, so hopefully it does the story justice. To be honest I'm not entirely sure what direction it is going to take from here, though I promise it won't be anything too OOC or bizarre. I may even try to get a start on the next chapter tonight or tomorrow, ideally. Please please please leave a review, I love to hear what people think of what I write! And if that's too much to ask, feel free to just leave me a message and tell me what you think of Chicago Fire right now. Like the Severide/Casey bromance moments? How bout good old Tommy Welch? Hope everyone is having a good day, read, enjoy, and review! Thanks!_

_I own no characters, themes, or events._

Casey

Maybe if he wasn't alone, if there was someone there to laugh and be an idiot with, he would have been _fun drunk. _But there was no one, he was a lonely fool drinking by himself, so he was just _drunk. _No "fun" involved. By the time 10 and 10:15 were starting to roll around, he was beginning to wonder if she was coming home at all. Maybe she could just spend the night at one of her new best friends' houses and go straight to work in the morning from there. That was what she wanted, right? To avoid spending an extra moment with him? The fact that gripping pain took hold of his chest with that thought was all the encouragement he needed to keep drinking.

By the time he heard footsteps clomping up the steps to their apartment and a key fumbling in the lock, the room was not a pretty picture. There were more than a few bottles splayed around him and a sizeable hole in the wall leading into the dining room. (There was an angry stage to his drinking). Not to mention the man himself, who looked like utter Hell-hair disheveled from running his hands through it, bags under his eyes, and an alcohol-induced flush to his cheeks that did not reflect the pallor of the rest of his skin from lack of sleep and worry. He couldn't help but think how shocked and disappointed all of his men would be to see their Lieutenant in this state.

_Dawson_

The apartment was uncharacteristically quiet as she made her way inside, causing her to do so with caution, half expecting to see it ransacked and looted. As she peered around the corner into the living room, it was ransacked alright, but not in the way she expected. Her fight-or-flight encouraged her to do the latter, for once, but logically she knew just ignoring the contents of the room was simply not an option.

"How was your shift?" It was spoken so softly and gently and was such a contrast to the destruction of the room and the man in it that it nearly broke her heart on the spot. The man who sat alert in his favorite recliner, rocking lightly back and forth, though she doubted it was a conscious action. It also left no room for interpretation about his level of awareness. He knew what had been done.

'"Look, Matt-" She began, moving towards him, not entirely sure what the rest of that sentence was even going to be. Luckily for her she was cut off.

"I say you, you know, he slurred, attempting to sit up a little straighter, but only succeeding in looking more disoriented. "Well, first I went to Molly's. I felt bad you had to work late, so I was coming to keep you company and help close. That was the first leg of my embarrassment. Otis clued me in on what was really going on there." He took the kind of long, hiccuping sigh that accompanied his level of intoxication before continuing. He was rather proud of himself for the relatively acceptable level of comprehensibility he was able to maintain, though. Dawson stood maybe teen feet in the door, still frozen. She couldn't think of a single thing to say, and he clearly wasn't finished.

"So then, I got back in my truck and went to look for you some more. I went to that park, you know? Where we used to hang out on Sunday afternoons?" He looked at her with a genuine smile and joy for a moment, as he remembered those beautiful days, before she watched his face fall again as his brain caught up with the real reason they were even having this conversation.

"And you weren't there, still. I thought you might be, since that's where you would go if you were upset. Wave of embarrassment number two was when I realized you were not upset at all, were you? Just desperate. So that's when I went into town."

She had taken a seat opposite him on the edge of the coffee table by now, trying to convey the deep regret and despair she was feeling, since she was clearly not going to get a word in edgewise at least for another couple minutes. "Didn't take me long to find you from there." He trailed off quietly, his eyes fixed to the floor at this point. She couldn't pinpoint why, but there was actually something intensely endearing about him in this condition. Maybe it was the vulnerability, who's to say, but something about the way he was subconsciously swaying back and forth, even seated, and struggling to make his mouth say the words he wanted that had her loving him now more than ever and not having a clue in the world how she had broken him so. Because that's what she had done, it was clear to her now. Broken him.

Nearly a minute of silence elapsed before he was the first to speak again, softer now, with a waiver in his voice. "I just don't understand why you thought you had to lie. When have I ever forced you to be with me? I mean, is is is that what you really think? That I'd hold you hostage with me in an Italian restaurant or something?" He was worked up now, stumbling over his words even more.

She moved desperately to take his hands, though he jumped out of his chair in record speed to avoid her, stumbling more than a little in the process. She settled for words instead.

"Matt, you cannot imagine how much I regret tonight. Do you think I could _not_ regret something that has brought you so much pain?" She questioned, attempting to take a step closer, which he countered carefully in the opposite direction.

"I saw you, Gabby!" he shouted, startling her. There was much more fight in him than he was letting on. "I saw you! I was searching for you, and worrying about you, and I saw you! With all these random people I've never even seen before, and you were so _fucking_ happy!" Cursing, especially in such a vulgar tone, was so out of character for her fiancé that she recoiled physically.

"You met people _off the street,_ Gabby, you had known these people for less than six hours, and I saw you in that bar happier," his voice broke and he grasped onto the back of the chair for support and the strength to finish his sentence. "Happier than you've looked with me in," he gestured about him, begging her to recall the last time she had truly been happy with him. The motion and the weight of the sentence became too much and he collapsed back to his knees, beginning to sob quietly. She made another effort at comfort, though this only served to infuriate him more, despite his despair. He scrambled, as best he could to his feet again and began feeble attempts at clearing up the trashed room. "I don't need pity, you know," he slurred, as he threw things into the various areas of the apartment that they roughly belonged in, " I am a grown man for Christ sake, the last thing I need is you wasting your life away here with me when you could be out with whatever the Hell his name is." He struggled to maintain a hold of the numerous empty bottles in his hands as he made his way around the room, periodically tripping and stumbling. She wished he would sit down, be more careful, but had the sense to know she was not in a position to suggest this at the moment.

She struggled to maintain an even tone in hopes of counteracting his irate and illogical one. "Come on, Matt, you know that isn't the case. How is this any different than when you go out bar crawling with Severide?" She couldn't stand to see him go on thinking that was really what their relationship was based on, pity. She shook her head, in disbelief at the damages she had done to him and _them_ with one ill though-out attempt at avoiding their issues. Suddenly one of the bottles he was holding shattered under the force of his grip. Broken glass sprayed widely and blood began to drip steadily from his hand, but he was unaware.

"You knew where I was! I was out with a friend getting my mind off things. You _lied_ to me Gabby, and not some little white lie, you literally lied to me so that you wouldn't have to go out with me. Do you have any damn idea how that makes me feel?" He was full on yelling by the end of his rant, and she silently prayed their neighbors were out or that they had well insulated walls; the last thing they needed was the CPD, or God forbid Antonio, showing up to a domestic dispute call. She did know, though. Standing before him in their trashed living room, blood flowing freely from his hand and tears she wasn't even sure he was aware of flowing down his cheeks, she _did_ know how she made him feel.

For probably the fourth time since she got home, his demeanor shifted drastically again, reverting this time back to the melancholy betrayal that was so much harder to stand. He shuffled to the couch, which had miraculously remained upright and stationary in all the chaos. To say he "sat down" would be generous, it was more an autopilot response by his body to the trauma it was feeling. More of a collapse. The apartment was silent for the first time all night, which she took advantage of in hopes of getting his hand patched up. She left for a minute, returning with a towel and first aid kid. She approached slowly, silently begging him to just grant her this.

As she neared him it became clear he was losing the strength to put up much of a fight anymore. His eyes stayed firmly fixed to the floor, though allowing her to gently turn his hand palm-up to investigate the cut. She was happy to find it didn't seem as though any tendons or muscle had been damaged, though it was considerably deep.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he whispered as she worked, "I already told you I don't need pity. I'll just stuff some duct tape over it or something." She cracked a small smile, having no doubt that was probably exactly what he would seriously do if left to his own devices. "Not just my hand, you don't have to do any of this. You don't have to do _us. _You could certainly saved me a lot of heartache to just tell me that though, rather than making me see for myself." His eyes began to glisten again with unshed tears.

"Dammit, Matt, that's not the case! I'm here, ok? And I'm going to be here in the morning whether you like it or not, and I'm going to be here every day after that until you tell me you want otherwise. Do you understand?" His eyes drifted up to meet hers, a quizzical mixture of doubt and confusion. "If I told you I loved you right now, would you believe it?" She whispered, taking his non-injured hand tightly between both of hers.

He snorted softly, his face clearly expressing amusement at the idea. "I wish I would. But I don't think so," he whispered back. His head lulled to the side, contorting his neck in what didn't look to be a remotely comfortable position. Dawson quickly finished the treatment of his hand, which she was thankfully confident did not require stitches. She replaced the first aid kit in the bathroom before returning to find Casey passed out contentedly on the couch. She gently maneuvered his legs up on to the couch with him and arranged a pillow under his head before draping a blanket over him. She stopped to stare at him for a moment, wondering how she had let them get so far off track. This was never what she wanted. Contrary to whatever strong doubts Casey was having, she didn't want away from him or out of their relationship. Sometimes it was just so _exhausting_ to be so constantly on edge with each other and tense. All she had wanted was a night away from that. Well she had gotten it, but she worried she had done irreparable damage in the process. She bent down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, brushing the hair back from his clammy forehead.

Too tired to sleep herself, she picked up where had had left off, cleaning up. She was a little impressed at the amount of damage he had done in just a few hours. Once she was through with that, she placed a couple aspirin and a glass of water on the side table closest to him before taking a couple herself. They were going to have enough to face in the morning, and the last thing they could afford was for them both to do it with pounding migraines.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello all! So here it is, the post-fight chapter at last. To be honest, I don't know where this is going. So I have a request of all of you. Read this. Then review and tell me what you think. In that review, if you have a request or suggestion about where to go from here, please, I'm begging you to include it. If you think it's good where it is, and this should be the end, I would be okay with that. I like the closure they get and I could end it there. Also accepting requests for anything else you'd like to see written. I want to keep writing but I have kind of hit a wall as far as subject matter goes._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one at least, and then help me figure out what's next for our people. As always, thanks for reading and all the kind words in your reviews. Enjoy!_

A soft whimper escaped him involuntarily as he slowly awoke. His face contorted immediately in pain before he grabbed the nearest object, a pillow, and threw it over his face. There was so much light, and noise, and so many people hammering his skull apart.

_Wait, one of those things wasn't right._

He whimpered again as he tried to move himself into a sitting position. He felt like he had been hit by a train. Multiple times. After several tries and an eventual commitment to just powering through the pain, he was finally able to make the motion. The fact that he was able to do so already confused him, because it tipped him off that he was not in his bed. Looking around through the small window he had created between his fingers, he was still in his apartment.

And like a flood, a destructive, 65 mph flood filled with nails and shrapnel, everything came back to him. The dinner that wasn't, searching for Gabby, waiting for her, the fight, everything was back in stunning clarity. He still couldn't quite place what had resulted in the bandage around his hand, but all the important stuff was back. All the painful stuff. Sooner or later he knew she was going to notice he was awake (he knew she never would have left him alone in that state) so he figured now was as good a time as any to try and get his wits about him. The last thing he wanted was to come off looking like a sick, needy puppy when he saw her for the first time.

He quickly swallowed the aspirin next to him, finishing off the glass of water, and planting his feet firmly on the ground in front of him. Everything hurt, inside and out, not to mention that every ache also directed a portion of its magnitude to the migraine currently pounding away in his head.

With a grunt, he heaved himself to his feet, almost collapsing again with the dizziness that overcame him. With a firm handle on at least two pieces of furniture at all times, he made his way to the kitchen to start making a pot of coffee. Sadly, once he had had some caffeine, he as out of relief options and was left to just waiting it out. _God, drinking sucked._

He followed through the motions on autopilot, preparing the pot to brew. He was startled out of his mindlessness by the voice he knew to expect eventually.

"You take the aspirin?"

He paused just long enough to process the words before beginning to scoop the coffee again. "Yup," he answered as indifferently and quietly as possible. In all honesty he just wanted to go away, far away, from all of this. The hangover, this awkward obligatory discussion, everything.

He watched her form the corner of his eye, lingering at the end of the hall leading to the living room. There was nothing to say, and it was obvious she felt it too, or she could have come up with something more significant than the aspirin he obviously wasn't going to turn down, no matter _who_ set it out for him.

"Look, not that last night wasn't the most mature, rational conversation of our lives, but what are the chances of us just sitting down for a minute like adults to talk about this?" He finally turned to face her, startled by the fresh wave of hurt that hit him. _God, she was so beautiful. And so hurtful._

He inhaled sharply before responding with a shrug, "I just don't know what there is to say. Things like that Gabby, _actions_ like that, they speak for themselves."

She made the first move in her proposition, taking a seat at the far end of the couch, just in case Matt was willing to even be as close as the other end. Stubborn as always, he chose the recliner, mug clutched desperately in both of his hands.

"I don't want it to, Matt. I'm not trying to deny that I hurt you or that what I did was incredibly wrong, but why can't it just be one mistake? Why do you have to take it as some grand manifestation of our entire relationship?"

"Because that's what it feels like, Gabby!" He yelled, taking her by surprise. "Because when you're looking forward to spending time with someone, who you think loves you, and that could use a little break, and they _lie to you_ not to sleep with somebody else, or to keep some secret from you, but just for the sake of not having to spend an evening with you, how is that not a manifestation of a relationship? What the hell kind of relationship is based off of one of the parties desperately avoiding the other?" He was back to a softer tone, by the end of his rant, though it still belied his anger right alongside the betrayal.

"I wasn't avoiding you, Matt, why can't you understand that? I was just avoiding the awkwardness and the tension and the obligatory conversations that were either hashing everything out or ignorantly pretending none of our problems exist! _That_ is what I was avoiding for a night." A period of silence followed her rebuttal, that started to concern her as it dragged on, specifically given the detached way he was staring at the floor.

"Do you hear yourself?" He finally whispered, making heartbreaking eye contact with her. Somehow she had hurt him again, and she didn't even know how this time. "Do you hear the way you talk about our relationship? Because you can say you weren't avoiding that in particular, but when you immediately assumed a date was going to be 'awkward, tense, and obligatory,' that does all the talking that needs to be done." He stood again as he finished, making his way to the door. The last thing she wanted was him driving right now; this condition was no better than straight wasted. She moved to stop him, but he was out the door, coat in hand, before she could. She heard the sound of his truck starting and then peeling off the side of the road. She grabbed her own coat and put on shoes as fast as possible to follow him. For once, she wasn't going to let him get away with running.

_Casey_

He cursed loudly, slamming the dashboard. How was it that when she wanted away she just snuck off, no explanation, no nothing, but when he wanted away she tailed him the whole way and he couldn't get a moment's peace? Eventually he surrendered, pulling to a stop at the break in the buildings on the side of the road, opening to a beautiful view of the harbor. He was hardly surprised when she pulled off and parked behind him. He climbed out of the truck slowly, moving around to rest against the hood in the front and gaze out over the marina. Nothing if not predictable, she was next to him in less than 60 seconds. "I like how this works," he mused sarcastically, "You get to run off whenever, but I get followed when I want a break." She scoffed, "You run all the time, you just run to the bottom of a bottle." He had no response to that because she was right, if he was being honest with himself. He made a mental note to start drying out in the very near future.

If there was an advantage to having been tailed down here, it would be that they were guaranteed a discussion sans screaming in a public atmosphere. The disadvantage to that advantage however was that it also ensured little would be said, as was currently the case. He sighed deeply. Loving someone as much as he loved her was physically exhausting. At any given moment, you were either worried about her, hurt by her, or filled with awe and joy for her. Hence, physically exhausting. "So you want to work this out," he eventually mumbled. Seemed like a good starting point.

She leaned away from the car, entering his line of sight. The look in her eyes when they met his broke his heart. "Don't you?" she whispered, and he realized the weight of the words only he had the power to speak, or not speak. There was no sense pretending though, he had always known what the answer to this question would be. "Of course I do," he replied, taking her hands in his as they dangled between them, "I've been here all along, waiting to." She pulled her hands away from his, returning to rest next to him against the truck. "That's not true and you know it. Being physically in our place of residence and being emotionally and mentally present and willing to work things out are not the same thing." He shrugged in response, as if to say _Fair enough. _Because it was-there was no use pretending he had been fully focused on them recently. They had both made mistakes, they both knew that at heart. "Well how do we start?"

"I have an idea," she started, jumping from the hood again, "what if we're just better people?" He guffawed loudly, taking in her quizzical expression. "That's your plan? We just get rid of our irritating qualities? You're basically suggesting we fix our problems by fixing our problems." She was invested in this now though, practically jumping up and down. "But that's why I think it might work, Matt! If we just each individually focus on our own weaknesses and work on correcting them, while also trying hard to make more time for this, "she said, gesturing between them, "I think that could make all the difference!" It seemed alright as a very basic theory, with one key flaw, at least as Casey saw it. "Ok but we don't _know_ our flaws, or we would have corrected them already. Nobody really sees themselves accurately."

This was only a brief obstacle in her plan before the solution came to her. She turned to face him fully, placing her hands on the sides of his arms. "Matt, you're a bit of a slob, you're so damn passive, which is easily misconstrued as indifference, but when you're not being passive you're hotheaded and over-protective as Hell, and your best solution is always just to walk away."

"You're kidding, right?" He shot back lightning fast. "I walk away? Okay how's this Gabby: I told you a long time ago you leap before you look and I think that might have been a generous appraisal. You leap before you even open your eyes, you're as stubborn as anyone has ever been, you feel that the rules and consequences that guide the rest of the world simply don't apply to you, and yes, _your_ best solution is always just to walk away."

They stared at each other for a moment or two after the two confessions, unsure how to proceed. Were they angry? Not exactly. Were they happy? Not exactly. Such was the overarching theme of their relationship lately. "Did that help?" She finally asked. "Are you better aware how to correct your faults?" "Are you?" He shot back before she had barely finished the question. He let out a short laugh, pacing a few steps ahead to the pier's edge. "I have to get to shift soon," he mumbled over his shoulder. She nodded, before making a small noise of comprehension after realizing he could not see her. "I don't want to do this anymore, Matt." She mumbled back, eyes not leaving the ground. He spun around quickly, panic and hurt evident on his face. "I, I thought you said-"

"No, no baby, " she hurriedly reassured him, closing the space between them and placing her hands on his chest in an attempt to calm him. "That's not what I meant. Of course I want to do _us,_ I just don't want to fight about it anymore. I want to try to put things behind us." His eyes closed in relief and contentment at having her in his arms again. "I want that too, Gabby, I want that too," he whispered back, resting his chin on the top of her head. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever but still not long enough. It had been so long since they were able to find such comfort in each other. Eventually she pulled away. "Listen. I want you to go home. Change. Go to work. And when we're done tomorrow, that's a brand new start, okay?"

He grinned. "A brand new start. Absolutely."


End file.
